


Braveheart

by DValkyrie



Series: Modern DJs and Vintage Love [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Boxing, F/F, M/M, Modern AU, y'know what I honestly don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 20:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20917970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DValkyrie/pseuds/DValkyrie
Summary: A classic tale of singer vs producer gets out of hand.





	Braveheart

**Author's Note:**

> ...Look I really don't know. 
> 
> However, the song used in this is an honest bop from a friend of mine.

_ ‘And I grow cold, doing what I was told _

_ Something frees my mind,’ _

Dorothea cupped one of her headphones with her left hand and held her right hand out. She never really knew why she did then when she sung, perhaps it was a force of habit?

_ ‘And when shit gets old, I let go _

_ My CPR is the brave.’ _

...What the fuck?

Dorothea scrunched her face in confusion and looked through the glass of the recording studio to Sylvain.

The boy was sitting in at the digital desk, bobbing his head to the track but stopped when he caught the singer’s eye.

Sylvain cut the track, and soon enough Dorothea heard his voice through her headphones.

“What’s with that face?” he asked.

“It’s the lyrics: CPR is the brave? What does that mean?” Dorothea asked into the microphone back to Sylvain. The recording studio was rather warm, and the air conditioner had to stay off so that the microphone didn’t pick up the excess noise.

“It’s about your heart being brave, duh”

“Well I get that, as the next, like, four lines are me singing about my brave brave heart,” Dorothea read the lyrics in front of her, still puzzled. Personally, she never considered Sylvain to be a master lyricist.

“But why is my CPR brave?”

“How is it not? It’s brave to perform CPR.”

“CPR is the brave of what? Sylvain this doesn’t make sense,” Dorothea cut the crap and placed a hand on her hip.

“If I can’t even understand it, how will your listeners?”

Sylvain went quiet, then let out a sigh.

“Do you have any great ideas, Beethoven?”

Dorothea raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm, “Why don’t I just lay down the chorus for now and come back to the pre-chorus.”

“Sure, I’ll drop you in.”

Dorothea heard the mic cut in her headphones and the track start again. She could hear herself singing the pre-chorus and shuddered - she’d need to do another take of that for sure.

Sylvain counted down from four to one on his fingers, and pointed at her for the cue.

_ ‘My brave brave heart, _

_ Keeping me out of the dark_

_My brave brave heart_

_ Giving me another start,’ _

Dorothea shut her eyes and adlib a rather complicated vocalize over the synth chords.

“Cut.”

She was rudely interrupted by Sylvain shutting the track off.

“Dot it’s too early in the track for you to go full Christina Aguilera, save that shit for the end.”

“Urgh, fine,” Dorothea rolled her eyes and shifted her weight from one leg to another.

She was definitely used to this; she had been a singer her whole life, and had certainly dealt with far worse than Sylvain.

So why were his critiques making her want to smash the glass window and rip his throat out?

“Rolling again,” Sylvain muttered into the talkback.

The track played again, and Dorothea repeated the line, careful not to do any ‘Christina-isms.’

This continued for another hour. Stopping and starting the track to perfect the main vocal part and then adding the harmonies on top.

Finally, Dorothea had laid down all her tracks, but she didn’t feel good about the last one.

“Can I do one more take of the last chorus? I got a few inflections wrong,” she asked Sylvain.

“Urgh, really? It sounds fine to me,” was the dry response.

Dorothea scowled and leaned further into the mic, her lips barely brushing the metallic surface.

“Sylvain, roll the track one more time. Let me get this right.”

Sylvain’s face scrunched into a snarl as he smacked the record button.

Dorothea belted the last chorus as best as she could, despite her fatigue, and out of spite, she went ‘full Christina’ on her adlibs as the song faded out.

“Dot, get in here,” Sylvain demanded through the talkback once the recording was finished.

Dorothea took off her headphones and stormed out of the recording space and into the mixing room. She was very quickly losing her patience with her comrade. Normally, the two worked well together, but this was really testing her.

“Why do you have to be so extra about everything?” he asked in a low voice.

“Because I want to do my best, obvi,” Dorothea flopped into the chair next to the desk and cross her legs tightly.

“It’s my voice on the track, after all.”

“But I’m the producer,” Sylvain stated, saving the file on the computer and swinging his chair to face the other DJ.

“I’ll just match together what works and what doesn’t, you don’t have to be a bitch about wanting to do more takes.”

Dorothea’s pupils retracted.

“Okay how the fuck am I being a bitch if I want to try and salvage this garbage song of yours?”

“Oi, that’s too far!” Sylvain’s nostrils flared.

“Well maybe it wouldn’t be garbage if you let me make it better!” Dorothea pursed her lips and stormed over to her bag.

“Make it better, it’s already perfect! What the fuck are you on about?!” Sylvain spat.

“Well I’m sorry for giving a shit about how I sound!” Dorothea picked up her bag and opened the door.

“Oh, real mature D, you’re just gonna fuck off when you don’t get your way?”

Dorothea threw up a middle finger as she stormed out of the studio.

* * *

It seemed like the end of Dorothea and Sylvain’s friendship. The two avoided each other for the next two weeks, deliberately taking alternative routes to their classes and even started to text Ingrid at Starbucks to make sure the other wasn’t there when they felt like a coffee.

Felix and Petra, goddess bless them, were stuck in the middle of this feud.

The two found solace in each other’s company while at the gym, often voicing how ridiculous their respective partners were acting. Felix had gone so far as to ignore Sylvain entirely, claiming he would only interact with his boyfriend once he ‘pulled his head out of his bleached ass and man’d the fuck up.’

Dorothea stood on the balcony of her dorm room Thursday evening, smoking a cigarette and gazing out at the courtyard. She could see Lorenz and Hilda talking while Igntaz seemed to be drawing on his iPad. Did that boy do anything else? Who knew.

Dorothea had zoned out, so she didn’t hear Petra walk in the door, or call out to her at first. It was only when Petra joined the DJ on the balcony that she got a response.

“Oh, hey you,” Dorothea smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Petra’s cheek. The younger woman had just finished a gym session by the look of her tracksuit and tank top.

“How are you faring?” Petra asked, leaning on the balcony railing next to her girlfriend.

“Eh, same as always,” Dorothea sighed.

“I wanted to go to Starbucks today but Ingrid said Sylvain was there. What a prick.”

Dorothea voiced her issues that entire night to Petra, reminding her that Sylvain’s head was indeed up his ass and that ‘he lacks all common sense when it comes to producing.’ Petra, the calm and wonderful person that she was, listened to Dorothea’s rambling like a lullaby to drift off to sleep.

But there was only so much Petra could listen to.

* * *

The next morning, Petra’s body woke up automatically. From her position on Dorothea’s chest, she stretched and gently shook the other woman’s shoulder.

“Dorothea, please be waking.”

The first response was a hazy groan, so Petra persisted, tightening her squeeze ever so slightly.

“Dorothea, love, please be waking.”

“Urgh...wha-” Dorothea’s eyes slowly opened, sleep clouding her vision as she saw Petra looming over her.

“Good morning,” Petra grinned and got out of bed.

Dorothea, still lying in her avocado pyjamas, looked at her phone.

“Petra, it’s 5:30am. How is this a good morning and why am I awake?”

“Because you will be joining me at the gym,” Petra stated, shedding her tank top and throwing on her sports bra.

“...good night,” Dorothea rolled over and shut her eyes, but was instantly pulled out of the bed by Petra.

“It is morning, and you will be joining me. There is no escape.”

“Petra what the-” Dorothea didn’t have time to protest as her body was placed in a standing position.

“We must be making haste, you can be borrowing some of my clothes.”

“Wh-no?! Petra what are you doing?” Dorothea rubbed her face with her palm, staring as her girlfriend rummaged through a set of drawers.

“We are going to the gym, of course,” Petra pulled out a pair of gym shorts and a tank top.

“I am needing someone to box with and Felix does not partake in boxing,” Petra chirped and handed the clothes to the disheveled zombie that was Dorothea.

“Can’t you box with Ingrid or Leonie?” Dorothea whined, snatching the clothes and stomping a foot in a failed tantrum.

“No, It would be giving me great joy to be sparring with you, Dorothea,” Petra grinned, tying her hair into its regular ponytail and opening the mini fridge by her desk with her foot.

“Make haste in changing, now!”

* * *

It was a battle Dorothea could not win. She trudged a few steps behind Petra as the two made their way to the 24/7 campus gym. Albeit, the gym was not far from the dorms, but it was 5:45am and the morning was crisp with a chill. Dorothea had on one of Petra’s hoodies, she had pulled the hood over her face and her hands in the pockets.

Soon enough, Dorothea found herself standing in the gym with red boxing gloves on and her hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail. The gym was basically empty, with the speakers playing some typical workout playlist from Spotify.

“Petra, you know I love you, right?” Dorothea whined, her arms barely able to lift her gloved hands.

“I am loving you too,” Petra grinned, wearing a pair of punching mitts on her own hands that she clapped together. Despite how annoyed Dorothea was, it would be stupid to deny how hot Petra looked in those tights and sports top with her midrif exposed.

“Great, so why the fuck did you drag me to the gym?” Dorothea sighed in exasperation as Petra started to bounce from foot to foot.

“We are going to be boxing, of course! Now put your arms up,” Petra clapped the mitts together and raised them to chin level.

“You will be hitting the mitts and dodging my hits.”

“Do I have t-” Dorothea didn’t get to finish her sentence because Petra had quickly struck a jab. Dorothea dodged with a small squeal.

“Petra! What the fuck?!”

“Come now! Take a strike!” Petra held up the mitts with a fire in her eyes.

There was no way to escape this, Dorothea thought, so she raised her right arm limply and pressed it to Petra’s right mitt.

The younger girl frowned, “Dorothea that is pathetic, you can be doing better than that!”

“I really don’t want to,” Dorothea whined again, but she managed to dodge another two jabs from her girlfriend.

“Make haste! Strike back!”

Dorothea grit her teeth and raised her arms again, she started throwing weak jabs at Petra’s mitts, and soon enough she found herself sweating.

“Oh Dorothea, it has only been a minute! You can be doing greater than this!”

Petra’s taunts in her sweet voice weren’t really helping boost Dorothea’s morale. With a huff, Dorothea raised her arms and dodged more of Petra’s jabs.

“Petra, why are we doing this?” Dorothea asked through deep breaths, throwing more jabs at the mitts.

“Boxing is a great way to be releasing frustrations,” Petra explained, not breaking a sweat or flinching at Dorothea’s impact.

“And to be of frankness, I am thinking that you need help in releasing those frustrations.”

...Oh. It clicked for Dorothea then and there. She wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her forearm and gulped.

“Sorry, Petra.”

“No need for apologies, I am helping you in getting out your anger,” Petra said in a calm manner, in total contrast to the jabs she struck at Dorothea.

“Come on, you have been having anger, now let it out!” Petra suddenly barked, clapping her mitts together again.

Dorothea took a deep breath and started to throw more powerful jabs at the mitts.

“Dorothea, you can do more, you will not hurt me. Get angry!” Petra barked again with a tiny grin curling at the corner of her lip. Dorothea put her gloved hands on her knees, gasping for breath with her head bowed.

“What is causing the anger?” Petra asked.

“...’vain” Dorothea mumbled, not looking at the younger woman as sweat trickled off her nose.

“I am not hearing you,” Petra urged Dorothea on, waving a red flag in front of a wild animal. 

The DJ’s head snapped up, with a new fire in her verdant eyes.

“Sylvain!” She raised her gloves and started to smack at the mitts again, this time with much more force.

“He’s a narcissistic...oblivious...self absorbed...playboy!” Dorothea punched every word out with as much force as she could muster.

“He never fucking listens to anything I do...thinks he knows best...nothing is good enough for his pasty thot ass!” Dorothea growled through gritted teeth, leaning forward with each punch.

Petra silently took the hits, nodding to urge her girlfriend.

“His lyrics are shit...his beats are shit...his fucking face is stupid, he’s such a wanker!” Dorothea was blind at this point, she just kept punching, ignoring everything else around her.

“I thought my vocalize was great! The motherfucker thinks its a load of crap...bitch please! His whole song is a Load Of SHIT!” The DJ punched out every last word with a scream of anger.

Breathing heavily, Dorothea stopped as she realised she had backed Petra into the wall of mirrors on the other side of the gym. Dorothea saw herself in the mirror, face flushed with red and covered in sweat. Some of her brown curls stuck to her forehead and temple.

Glancing at Petra underneath her, Dorothea saw the girl was smiling, a tiny flush on her face but still no sweat.

“Are you feeling better?” Petra asked softly, straightening up and pushing herself off the mirror wall.

Dorothea stepped back to allow Petra some space. Still catching her breath, the DJ blinked and realised that she did feel so much better.

“...Y-Yeah,” Was all Dorothea could say. She threw her head back and placed her gloves on her hips. Her whole body ached, especially her arms.

“Thanks, Petra,” Dorothea smiled as Petra placed a kiss on her cheek.

“No need for gratitude, I am only hoping this will help in the civil war of your friendship with Sylvain.”

* * *

Surprisingly enough, boxing with Petra that morning did help.

Dorothea purposely showed up just before her music theory class started to gauge if Sylvain would be sitting in his usual spot up the very back of the lecture theatre.

He was. Perfect.

Dorothea made her way to the very back, climbing the stairs in her boots. She slipped by other classmates and slid into a spot next to Annette, who took the course as a general elective. Annette smiled at Dorothea, who smiled back and took out her computer to take notes. Of course, what student at university didn’t have Facebook open during their lecture?

Dorothea scrolled through her messages and found Sylvain in her recents...recent being two weeks ago. She opened the message window, biting her bottom lip.

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **Hey

Dorothea sent the message and quickly flicked tabs to her Onenote on the course. The lecturer came in and fired up the powerpoint presentation on Baroque Music and the beginning of the Figured Bass. Dorothea rolled her eyes, this was shit she already knew from her days in that opera company, so she could afford to not do the sub-machine gun finger dance that Annette was currently doing with her keyboard. Dorothea couldn’t help but chuckle at how fast Annette’s fingers were moving as she jotted down the notes.

Nervously, Dorothea flicked tabs and saw that Sylvain had read her message. Not daring to actually look at her fellow DJ, Dorothea continued to type:

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **Wanna get coffee after this lec?

Dorothea waited for a response, and her heart stopped when she saw the ellipses pop up to indicate Sylvain was typing. 

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **cant, meeting Felix soz

Dorothea sighed, but put on a brave front and thought about her next message carefully.

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **thats k. Yesterday Petra took me boxing at like 5am and i literally punched out all the anger i have for u. It was a spiritual experience haha

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **lol thats good. Felix has been making me do weights with him in the evening and i think my shoulder is fucked

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **oh shit F haah

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **Felix said that everytime I feel angry to add on another kilo to my reps and to stop being a lil bitch

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **yknow what im not surprised in the slightest

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **Did Petra nearly kill you too?

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **yeah but it was actually super helpful??? Like i called you a pasty thot

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **hahah I called you a thirsty slag

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **hahah I’ll take it!

Dorothea started to giggle out loud, but quickly stopped herself when Annette nudged her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Dorothea whispered with a small grin, turning back to her computer screen.

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **hahah seems like we both needed that gym therapy

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **Yeah seems like it

Dorothea paused, taking a deep breath through her nose 

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **Sylvain im sorry for saying ur song was garbage and acting like a bitch. ur song is really not garbage its gonna be a fucken bop 

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **yknow its okay. im sorry for getting shitty with u about ur recordings and not letting u do ur best. Ur such a great singer. Do you wanna try again on the weekend?

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **i could do sat morning? got a gig at Manuela’s club sat evening

**Cock FUCKING Destroyer: **ye that works, ill book the studio and we can smash it out. U can do all the takes you want you thirsty slag xx

**Mariah Carey 2.0: **Sounds great u pasty thot xx

* * *

“So we’re going to try again on Saturday morning,” Sylvain took a sip of his coffee from his seat across from Felix that same afternoon. 

Felix pushed up his glasses and took a sip of his black coffee, “Will you stop being a little bitch and let her do the singing thing?”

“Wow okay, Felix,” Sylvain scoffed, used to his boyfriend’s blunt nature.

“Yes, I will let her do the singing thing and she will let me edit what takes I want.”

“That sounds fair,” Felix admitted as his phone on the table vibrated.

“Is that a text from your wife?” Sylvain smirked, but Felix just kicked his shin.

“No you idiot, it’s Petra,” Felix tapped the screen of his Motorola G7 and skimmed the text.

“She said she got Dorothea to do another boxing session with her tomorrow morning, on her own free will.”

“Is that so?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, but winced as the pain from his shoulder pulsed.

“Y’know, I shouldn’t have listened to your bullshit idea of putting more weights on the shoulder press.”

“It got you to shut up about Dorothea though,” Felix shrugged and texted a message back to Petra.

“Apparently, Petra said the boxing worked and now Dorothea shut up as well."

“You mean, you two planned this?” Sylvain’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, we couldn't deal with you two bitching about each other constantly,” Felix muttered. 

“To be fair, I think I had it better than Petra at least.”

“Why is that?” Sylvain asked, but the response from Felix made him instantly regret the question.

“Because according to Petra, Dorothea isn't horny when she's angry, unlike you."

Sylvain spat out his drink.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on discord to talk gay shit: Stonozomi#9121


End file.
